


Waiting For An Invitation

by meirencollector



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Hot Mess Adrien Agreste, Hot Mess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Post-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Pre-Relationship, Resolved Sexual Tension, Roommates, Self-Indulgent, Sexual Tension, and they were ROOMMATES, the word hoo-hah was in this fic at one point but my friend made me change it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25895662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meirencollector/pseuds/meirencollector
Summary: College roommates reveal their deep secrets. Conflict ensues, as their friendship tips over in unraveling the truth.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 17
Kudos: 264





	Waiting For An Invitation

“Destiny is usually just around the corner. Like a thief, a hooker, or a lottery vendor: its three most common personifications. But what destiny does not do is home visit—” _Alright, that’s enough nonsense for today._ Adrien thinks to himself, snapping the book shut. 

He sighs, promising to never trust Nino’s recommendations ever again. Apparently, books titled _The Shadow of the Wind_ weren’t actually about samurai-ninja warriors like he thought they would be.

See, he’s never been a fan of destiny and its annoying twin, fate.

Some people believe that life is like a book, a story already written out from beginning to end. A predetermined tale, from the very first breath to the last, every choice taken and every doubt cast, are all just part of an orchestrated plot by an unforgiving author in his craft.

Adrien Agreste has never been one of those people.

He likes to think of life as something unrestrained and unpredictable, as if the artist picked up the brush and let the paint guide itself: a faint stroke here, a miscalculated blend over there, a thick dash across the middle, a little err on the side. It’s twists and turns of every color and hue, lines a bit crooked and unsure — a mess of a masterpiece one can call their own. 

But as time passes, Adrien finds himself doubting his half-assed belief, his free-spirited soul unwilling to be chained to the poorly-written character of one predetermined plotline. The thought of it strips him bare, weariness seeping in, boiling into doubt. The events of the other day are still fresh in his mind, his thoughts wandering on how things should be, how things could be.

Can it be? Has he been wrong all this time? How was he even supposed to know?

Marinette plops down on the farther end of the sofa, both knees pulled up, casually sipping on a yoghurt drink while her other hand flips open a well-loved sketchbook. Adrien watches the raven-haired girl draw faint sketches, the barest outline of what he was sure was going to be a showstopping piece.

He looks at her, and his brooding comes to a halt, the persistent _what ifs_ that were running through his brain going silent. Adrien’s mind finds itself in an odd state of calm, and he revels in it, the silence sinking in like the warm Parisian afternoon.

Barefaced and in mundane clothing — an oversized tee and loose gym shorts — hair lazily tied into a bun, bangs brushing her eyelashes and her eyebrows scrunched up as she sketches, Marinette looks picturesque, _a work of art who nobody’s hands are worthy of._

“Are you going to stare all day?” Marinette asks, sounding nonchalant. She doesn’t look up as she speaks, intently continuing to trace the lines of the bodice. 

48 hours 23 minutes and 31 seconds, the silence between them finally breaks.

Adrien breaks into a grin. “ _Paws_ sibly. I don’t see why not.” After a pause, he adds, “After all, I can do what I want in my _own_ apartment.”

The pen skids to a halt and the sketchbook is snapped shut. Marinette’s eyes turn to her roommate of two years as she leans further into the sofa’s arm. “So we’re talking now? I thought we could push past another two days for a new record.” she teases.

“You were counting? Didn’t know m’lady missed a certain _chat_ terbox that much.” Adrien replies, not missing a beat.

“I see you stare at the clock every hour, Chat.” she retorts. “I also heard you talking to your Ladybug body pillow last night.” 

Adrien turns beet red. “How did yo—“ 

Marinette clears her throat and puts on a cheshire grin. _“So, Mari— I mean m’lady—Weird reveal, huh? Um, I’m sorry I called the cops—”_

“It was an accident!” Adrien interjects, his face turning a deeper shade of red at every word. “What was I supposed to do? I thought we were getting robbed!”

“I thought _we_ were getting robbed!”

“You were sneaking into the apartment! How is that not suspicious?”

“I was just trying to be _quiet_ ,” Marinette hisses. “My roommate said he needed some peace and quiet for his ‘finals’, how was I supposed to know he was out moonlighting as a catboy?”

“As if that argument doesn’t apply to you.” he counters. “I suppose the ‘volunteer job’ excuses you’ve been pulling out weren’t for some charity after all.” Adrien throws her an accusing glare. “You’ve been skipping out on your chores for it!”

“The volunteer job is saving Paris, idiot!” Marinette waves her hands, exasperated.

“This idiot is saving Paris with you, idiot.” Adrien snaps back. “And he does all his chores, because his roommate _always_ tells him that we have to pull our weight around here.” he sneers.

“Well...you tried to stab me with a baguette!”

“Hey, you tried to hold the milk carton hostage!”

They look at each other. Their words finally settle in as laughter bubbles freely out from the duo, the uneasiness hanging over them slowly petering out at last, and the comforting surge of familiarity begins seeping in.

“I missed this.” “I missed us.”

Silence, once more.

“Here it goes again.” Marinette grumbles.

“What do you mean?”

“This. This weird, awkward atmosphere where it feels like we’re walking on eggshells.” she gestures to the both of them. “This isn’t how we work. This isn’t _us_.”

Adrien sighs. “It’s the reveal, isn’t it?” he tries to avoid her gaze, his head turning away. “I think we both had expectations for a long time and when out of nowhere it happened—”

“—we didn’t know how to act when we found out.” Marinette finishes.

He looks back, and her face is already inches from his.

“Are you disappointed?” she whispers, her face downcast. “That it was me?”

He shakes his head, chuckling, as if it's the most outrageous thing he has ever heard. “No. I could never be.” he replies. _But now I know it’s you, and I’m not sure what to do._

Adrien backs off from the proximity, leaning back on the sofa’s arm. “Honestly, I never saw it coming.” he shrugs. “But in the end, it kind of makes sense, don’t you think?”

Marinette nods. “I’ve had different scenarios of it happening in my head,” she flips open her sketchbook once again. “But yeah, it kinda does make sense.”

Adrien follows suit and picks up his book, trying to find the page where he left off. “I must admit, the identity reveal I fantasized of all these years did not involve accusing Ladybug of theft.” Both share a giggle at the remark.

_But in the end, it didn’t matter how it went, because for me—it could've only been you._

The two settle back into the sofa, basking in the warm light of the room. The sun was sinking behind the rooftops, the colors fading from orange to crimson red. As the afternoon gradually gave way to the evening, the stubby squares of the light cast by their apartment windows faded to elongated rectangles, slowly disappearing into the night.

“So, what’s that about?” Marinette asks, her eyes pointing to the book in his hand.

“Oh, this?” Adrien shuts the book once more, casting it to the side. “It’s nothing.” he mentally slaps himself. _I forgot to bookmark it again._ He hasn’t even gotten past the page he was reading earlier. 

“You've been staring into space since I came in earlier.” she replies, sounding unconvinced. Adrien retrieves the book again, feeling sorry for its worn-out state.

“What’s on your mind?” Marinette queries as she goes back to sketching, adding small details to the hem of the dress. “And stop abusing the poor book, Adrien.” she adds, not even looking at him. “You might have been disappointed that it’s not giving you the samurai action you hoped for, but don’t try murdering it.”

The blond stops his aggressive page flipping. “What do you want from me, Mari?” he whines.

“Why won’t you tell me, kitty?” she appeals to him in a singsong tune, her bluebell eyes waiting expectantly.

There was a split-second pause.

“Alright, fine.” Adrien laughs, knowing he was doomed to lose whenever she does _that_. “This is going to sound dumb, Marinette.” he groans.

“Good, I’m an expert at listening to those. I’ve actually been on a long-time receiving end of dumb puns for almost a decade.” she replies teasingly.

“How dare you!” Adrien exclaims, obviously appalled. “I know you secretly like them,” he wiggles his brows.

“Stop changing the topic,” Marinette scoots closer to the boy and rests her head on his lap. “Now you can’t get out of this, I’m not moving until you tell me,” she declares, defiant.

“Okay, okay...so pushy.” Adrien grumbles. His eyes drift towards the window, avoiding her stare. “I’ve been thinking about fate. Satisfied?”

“Fate?” she replies, puzzled. “What about it?”

“You know...fate and...destiny.” Adrien supplies unhelpfully, his hand gesturing to the air.

Marinette rolls her eyes, and begins to help herself up.

“Hey! You asked for this!” Adrien pulls her down back to his lap. “No take-backsies.”

“I asked out of worry for my best friend. Not about this ‘fate and destiny’ nonsense.”

Adrien raises an eyebrow.

“Look here, Adrien. You’re the last person to get on with this...stuff. You’re a man who does what he wants, when he wants.” Marinette points out. “It was like that when you chose to major in Physics, instead of taking on the family business. It was like that when you told your dad you were moving out and getting a place of your own. It was like that when you wore the ring. It has _always_ been like that every time you put on the mask as Chat Noir.”

Adrien feels a wave of comfort, easing away his doubt.“Thanks, Mari. It just came into my mind, I guess. I’ve never given it much thought before.”

“I don’t think about it often either.” she closes her eyes. “And you should be relieved about that.” 

“Huh? Why so?” he looks down, asking the girl on his lap.

She opens her eyes, meeting his own. “If I start believing in fate, then it's over for you, Adrien Agreste.” 

Marinette breaks the eye contact, and leaves his lap. He misses the warmth.

“Me? What do you mean?” he asks the girl who’s already gone back to her sketchbook.

“If fate is really real, then you’re probably my soulmate, and that means you’re stuck with me forever.” She pauses and stares at him. “Because there's no way I’m going to let you get rid of me.”

“What? I’m your what now?”

“You heard what I said.” she replies, shading the hemline with surer, darker strokes. “I mean, we’ve always been gravitating towards each other, don’t you think?” _It has always been us._

Adrien doesn’t dare utter a word, waiting for her to continue.

“When you think about it, look. Ever since we met when I was fourteen, we’ve always been together. We’ve always been in the same class since. We were the ones chosen by the miraculous. The two halves of a whole. We’re the ones who saved Paris over and over again, you and me. It’s us against the world, remember?” she chuckles at the memory.

“We’re always stuck together, and things always end with both of us in the same situation. Don’t you think it's funny that I’m a designer and you’re a model?” Marinette points out as she begins to draft the lines of the sleeves. “Now, we’re the best of friends. We’ve got each other’s backs and no one knows each other better than we do. We’re even studying in the same university. We’re roommates. You have to admit, something is bringing us together.” she nods to herself, admiring her work.

“But we’re friends. Best friends.” Adrien utters, the words sounding stupid even to his own ears.

“It’s soulmates for a reason, Adrien.” Marinette interjects. “It’s not just a ‘passing attraction’ kind of thing. It's a deeper part within us, and perhaps a greater thing than all of us. Do you think it gives a damn if you don’t have the hots for me?”

Adrien is flustered. “Of course not. I was just saying—“

“I was kidding.” Marinette chimes with an assuring smile. “I know you didn’t mean it like that.”

“You have no way of knowing that.” Adrien cuts in.

“Hmm?”

“You implied I’m not attracted to you.” Adrien stresses, fully facing her. “You don’t know that.”

Marinette shrugs, appearing barely intrigued. “Where are you going with this?”

“I mean, why not. I wonder why we never went there.” Adrien rattles on, “It’s not like there haven’t been tabloids about us dating. On both sides of the mask.” He looks over in her direction. “Did you ever have any feelings for me?”

 _Any?_ Marinette laughs incredulously in her head. _Oh Adrien, if only you knew._ She breathes out a heavy sigh. “If I answer, will you stop this nonsense?”

“ _Purr_ haps?” he replies. “ Come on, indulge me,” he nudges her with his foot.

She rolls her eyes, playing it off casually. “Yes. I _might_ have been attracted to you at some point.”

Adrien goes along with it, “M’lady, you’re going to make me cry.”

“Don’t push it, Chat.” Marinette chides with a friendly grin, the pen pressing deeper than usual into the sketchbook. “I’m running out of ink.” she mutters to herself.

He pauses. “Hey, do you want to go out with me?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Marinette replies, distracted by her annoyance at the pen.

Adrien presses further, "I'm serious. Do you want to go out with me?”

Marinette laughs mockingly, and points her pen at the other. “You’re being ridiculous right now, Adrien. Stop acting so impulsively and get your thoughts together.” She huffs. “I have a great tolerance for your jokes, kitty, but there’s a limit on how far you can go.”

“Just once?” Adrien peers closer, batting his eyelashes. “I’ll give you a pass for all the times you skipped out on cleaning duty.” Another idea pops into his head. “Wait, I’ll stop holding it over your head if you gave me a kiss instead, right now.”

Marinette pauses. She looks thoughtful for a moment, eyes distant in seemingly deep thought, as if she’s actually considering it. She leans forward, close enough that her breath sweeps through his lips, and says, 

“No.”

Adrien grumbles when Marinette scoots back to her side of the sofa. “Why not? It’s just a kiss.”

Marinette merely tuts as she shakes her head, completely ignoring him.

A few minutes pass, and Marinette notices that her roommate has become uncharacteristically quiet. Sure, they just went past two entire days of not talking, but usually she can catch a gentle hum or an unbridled snort, because Adrien has never been the type to shut people out, especially the people he’s comfortable with. And now that he’s in the same room with the only person who knows his _chat_ tier alter ego, he’s never going to shut up. 

Marinette tries to break the silence. “Hey, can you get a fineliner pen from my room? It’s just on my desk, next to my books.”

“No.” Adrien finally speaks, sounding petty.

“Okay, fine.” Marinette closes her sketchbook. “I’ll do it myself.”

But Adrien stands up ahead of her, bolting to her room. _Not that I planned on getting up in the first place_ , she smirks to herself, and returns to her sketching.

Adrien comes back and hands her the pen. Marinette mumbles a thanks, occupied with her work, and Adrien sits back down on the sofa, humming a cheery tune. Marinette hears the rustling of pages, Adrien likely to have finally gotten back to his reading.

The humming comes to a sudden stop. “You know, I noticed you never have male models pose for you.”

“Mmhm.” 

“Why?”

“Sketching a woman’s body is easier for me. It's familiar and I’ve been doing it for a while.” she answers casually, her attention focused on adjusting the dress’ silhouette.

“Huh. Is that so...” he voices out, sounding unconvinced.

“Yeah.”

“Then why do you have an entire sketchbook full of a _purr_ ticular male model?”

Marinette looks up immediately.

“Where did you get that?”

“Saw it while looking for your pen. Looked interesting.”

“Adri _en_ ,” she warns in a lowered tone, “Give it back.”

She holds out her hand impatiently.

“No, I don’t think I will.” Adrien brushes her off, clutching on to the sketchbook.

Marinette exhales, about to lose it. “Oh god. You’re acting like a child. Why are you being so petty?”

“Bugaboo, I think we need to talk about this model who’s filled up every page of your book.” Adrien teases.

“I see him everyday, I get to use him as a model as payment for putting up with his idiocy through the years.” she reasons, evidently miffed. “Now hand it over, kitty.” Marinette orders, reaching over for the sketchbook in Adrien’s hand, who instantly holds it up higher. The raven-haired girl tries to snatch it from his hands, only for her palms to land flat on Adrien’s chest.

Marinette quickly withdraws her hands, but Adrien continues to rile the lady whose face was flushed deep red. _Was it out of anger or embarrassment?_ Either way, he’s decided to court death.

“You’re turning as red as a ladybug, Mari.” Adrien snickers. “Where is your mind going right now, m’lady? Get it out of the gutter!” he teases, absolutely amused at the sight of his partner looking completely flustered.

Poor Marinette, who lucked out on the genetic lottery and thus couldn't reach her sketchbook no matter what she tried.

“Why are your limbs so long?” Marinette complains, the frustration evident in her voice. She moves forward, reaching for the sketchbook, planting a knee in the space between Adrien’s thighs for stability.

“It comes with being tall,” he boasts, stretching his arm further upwards for good measure.

“This is so stupid,” Marinette grumbles, crossing her arms in annoyance as she retreats, backing a knee, “And you’re an idiot.”

Adrien lets out a chuckle at her disposition, his arm relaxing as Marinette moves away.

Sensing her chance, Marinette advances towards him again, setting her knees towards the outside and caging Adrien’s thighs between hers. Adrien notices as she lunges forward, and immediately shifts his arm backwards, moving the sketchbook farther than ever. 

“Why you..“ Marinette groans spitefully, her patience running thin. “Once I get my hands on that sketchbook, I swear I will throw you into the Seine with a weight strapped onto your stupidly long legs, Agreste.”

Marinette angles her body forward even further, and Adrien’s laughter is stifled, his face muffled against her cotton tee. “Mmmmph-!” he tries to catch a breath. “Mari,” he wheezes, “I can’t breathe over here.”

“Good kitty. I hope you choke.” Marinette spits out, flashing a wicked grin. “Now die.”

Marinette charges suddenly, diving for the sketchbook. Without warning, the sofa tips dangerously to the side, startling the now wide-eyed duo.

The cat’s reflexes immediately kick in, as Adrien drops the sketchbook and quickly pulls Marinette down, his hands firm on the sides of her waist.

The sofa tips back in balance, and both let out a relieved sigh. Disoriented from the last few seconds of what could've been a disaster, Adrien’s eyes finally focus on the girl sitting in front of him. “M’lady, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Well, you're the one who made me reach for it,” she retorts, gently bumping his forehead with hers.

A few beats of silence falls before the realization sets them aware—to the closeness of their bodies, to the dangers of the position they’re in.

Marnette’s practically settled on Adrien’s lap, her hands set on his shoulders from where she supported herself when he pulled her down. It didn’t help when Marinette decided to bump their heads together, their faces now barely inches apart. 

The ladybug’s remaining rationality finally steps in, and Marinette begins to pull away, before anything could start. “Well, you can let go of me now.” she says, lifting herself upwards with her knees on the sofa, her hands holding onto Adrien’s shoulders to hoist herself up.

Adrien pulls her back down, his hold tighter around her waist.

“What are you doing, Chat?” Marinette asks, trying to sound like the Ladybug who knew how to put the Black Cat in place. But right now they were simply Marinette and Adrien, and she could only hope that her tone could mask the heartbeat that roared in her ears.

He draws her closer into his arms, his breath tickling her skin. He leans his forehead onto her shoulder.

“Would you hate it if I do this?” he whispers.

She stays quiet for a moment. Then Marinette leans into his shoulder and closes her eyes, already regretting what she was about to say. 

“No.”

He breathes out a sigh. “I just wanted to know.”

“Know what?” she whispers. 

“What it feels like.”

“W-what does it feel like?” she asks, her voice trembling.

“I’m not sure.” Adrien replies. He lifts his head to face her again, and Marinette looks up, taking in his unreadable expression.

“What?”

“You haven’t pushed me away yet.”

Marinette tilts her head to one side. “Am I supposed to?” she questions shakily, unsure.

“No,” he answers, his tone resolute.

Marinette gulps, not knowing what to do. They were quickly approaching unknown territory, crossing a line they've never traversed before. She thought she had kept them at bay, but the hopeless feelings of her fourteen-year-old self were now being recklessly unearthed by this unfamiliar situation. A new thought comes in that pisses her off.

She frowns and lifts her hands off his shoulders, folding her arms. “Are you messing with me because you now know I’ve been in love with you?”

Adrien blinks, coming back to reality. He flashes a cheshire grin. “You what?”

A blush sears into her cheeks. “Nothing. Forget about it.” She looks away sharply and begins to move up her leg to make a run for it, but the grip around her waist wasn’t about to let her go just yet.

“Wait, Marinette.”

She would do _anything_ to get out of this situation. _Okay, actually not_ ‘anything’. She didn’t need to suffer any more embarrassment than she was already under. 

“It’s nothing, really. Not a big deal.”

“Of course it is.”

Marinette shakes her head, resolutely avoiding his gaze. “Why? I’ll get over it.” she assures him. “I’ve stopped it for a while,” she mumbles to herself.

“What if I don’t want you to?”

“Don’t want me to what?” she asks, “Be in love with you?”

“I don’t want you to stop.” he replies, softly.

Marinette looks him in the eye, surprised, nearly forgetting that she was still on his lap. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Adrien.”

“I _do_ know what I’m saying,” he loosens his grip on her waist and sighs. “But if you wish, you can get up, m’lady. I won’t stop you.”

She was already on the edge of his lap, ready to bolt out the door. And yet she couldn’t find the strength to leave. Marinette’s brain was begging on its knees to make a run for it and pretend the entire thing never happened, but she held her ground, settled on his thighs.

“You’re still here.” Adrien whispers in her ear, leaning to press his lips against her cheek.

“I-I am.” she affirms, her voice trembling. The sensation on her cheek sent waves through her skin, heat rushing through her veins like liquid fire. Marinette’s mind whirled. It’s not like they’ve never kissed before. Why was she acting like this?

Because this one was different. Not to save each other from a villain. Not by accident or a push from a dare. Not an oblivious act that they were going to forget in the next second either. Now she wonders if she could survive a real kiss. But that wouldn't happen, would it? _They were best friends._ Best friends don’t kiss each other. _Do they?_

“Time’s up.” Adrien cuts her through her train of thought, his grip tightening once again. 

“W-What?”

“You heard what I said,” he grins, pulling her closer. “You just lost your chance to get up, and now you have to stay here with me.”

“What if I want to get up?”

“Do you want to?” he asks, his lips only inches away.

Marinette feels Adrien snake his arms fully around her waist, pulling her closer, a shadow of a smile as he watches her. She hates herself when she involuntarily lets out a gasp at the pressure of his arm around her, the air knocked out of her lungs in surprise, the ghost of her breath touching the surface of his lips.

“No.”

As soon as the word comes out, it feels like a switch flips within Adrien, releasing desires that were lying dormant, waiting to crawl out to the surface. If Marinette thought she was the only one who had pushed their feelings aside, she was a fool.

Adrien’s throat feels dry as he licks his bottom lip nervously, staring at Marinette’s mouth. He presses his lips lightly around hers, once, twice, thice, before he dives in for the kill. He kisses her deeply, like how he’s wanted to a thousand times, like how he’s dreamt about for a thousand nights. Adrien feels her fingers run through his hair, and he lets her lean into him slowly, pulling her in. 

Marinette could only wrap her arms around his neck to brace herself from his kisses. If she thought he smelled good before, he tasted even better. _As sweet as honey_ , Marinette thoughtlessly bit down on his bottom lip.

Adrien inhaled sharply in shock, and Marinette froze, her actions catching up to her.

“Sorry,” she apologizes in a faint whisper.

He smiles against her lips, and shakes his head fondly, “Do it again.”

Marinette moved forward, straddling him to kiss his lips again. Their kisses turned desperate, punctuated with heavy breaths in between, both of them unable to hold back. Adrien moves lower to mouth at her neck, and starts to leave a trail of kisses down to her collarbones. Marinette throws her head back and her hips shift involuntarily, making the other groan.

“Mari,” he moans into her neck, his teeth grazing the thin skin. He feels her pulse throb wildly under his lips, and he sucks on it, as Marinette presses her nails into his back.

“Don’t do that, kitty.” Marinette moans, “I’ll have to cover that with make-up.” she reasons, panting.

“Then cover it up,” Adrien murmurs into her ear, and drifts lower to her neck. Without warning, he bites down, and Marinette clutches his hair, to which he slowly soothes her stinging skin with his tongue. 

Adrien’s hand, previously resting on her waist, slowly creeps up under her tee, stroking down the line of her spine. Marinette hisses as she breaks off the kiss, unfamiliar with the feeling of someone touching bare skin. Adrien comes to her comfort, calming her as he brings up a hand to shush her against her lips, the other still occupied with tracing lines on her waist. 

The blond’s tongue smoothly slides into her mouth as he caresses her cheek. Marinette groans out a moan of approval, and he revels in the sound, eager to hear more of it.

They kiss and kiss until their lips are wet and swollen, falling into the night, heated gasps and passionate touches blurring the border before uncharted waters. Adrien sees Marinette in the moonlight, her back against their sofa, cheeks flushed, hair tousled and eyes glazed; he wonders if he’s forgotten that he’s still in one of his dreams.

He kisses her slowly, savoring it, when Marinette sucks on his tongue in accident, and he lets out a groan. Marinette backs off a little, panicking, unsure what she had just done.

Adrien brushes the stray strands of her hair, “Why did you pull away?” 

Marinette whimpers as he captures her lips again in a kiss. As their tongues meet again, this time Adrien sucks on hers, drunk on the way she trembles in his arms, drowning in the sounds of her stuttered moans.

“Shouldn’t we stop?” Marinette manages to breathe out, gasping. She, too, was drowning in her roommate's kisses, and she didn’t know when to stop. She didn’t know if she wanted to stop. Adrien was pulling her in deep and she wasn’t even putting up a fight. She _couldn’t._

“Do you want to stop?” Adrien throws the question back at her.

He’s an idiot. If he wasn’t convinced when Marinette called him one earlier, he sure is now.

He never dared imagine it would go this far, never considered it happening and never expected that he might enjoy being with Marinette so much so that he was no longer content with just being friends, even best friends, or with just a simple kiss. All he intended was a fleeting peck, maybe some tongue if they weren’t weirded out by the idea — that’s it. Make-out session done. Not this. Not with his breath hot against her neck as he grinds down against her, uninhibited, letting his emotions take control.

Adrien Agreste is an idiot. _Marinette was right_ , he agrees. And he also agrees that he regrets nothing about it.

He finds her lips, biting when her hips involuntarily cant back. Marinette’s back arches, and Adrien wastes no time latching his teeth on her throat. Marinette lets out a small whine, a stuttered, choked-up moan as her nails dig into Adrien’s shoulder and the other pulls at his blond hair.

She stills, panting heavily as he grinds down, whispering a stream of sweet nothings in her ear. The sofa creaks against the floorboards with Adrien’s strength, as Marinette moans into his mouth, sending shivers down his spine. He breathes out, satisfied, rains soft kisses on her chest, her face, as she watches him with a glazed stare, watching how the sweat trickles from his forehead, how his hair falls as he moves.

He loosens his grip on the arm of the sofa, his knuckles pale from clutching it. He slumps down on top of her, resting on her chest as he takes his breaths.

The realization sinks in slowly, as the wind passes through the window, cooling their sweat.

Adrien clutches Marinette, cuddling her, pressing lazy kisses on her cheeks. They lie on the sofa as the night drones by, until Marinette finally mumbles that he’s too heavy and it’s too hot, excusing herself to go shower.

As soon as they’re both cleaned up, Marinette whips up a meal and Adrien gets out Ultimate Mecha Strike IX, and they find themselves back on the sofa once again. They eat while they set up the video game, but Adrien’s eyes can’t help but wander to the glaring, scarlet marks on her neck, feeling pleased at the sting of the nail scratches on his back, a blatant reminder of what happened between them, opening up the possibilities of what could be, what they can be.

And he looks up at her, trying to play it cool and failing, eyes darting onto the television screen when she feels him looking at her. He smiles and his eyes slide over to the sketchbook tossed aside and forgotten on the floor, along with the book he was supposed to read.

He picks up the book, and as he opens it, he finds himself on the page where he left off. _Funny how that works_. “Destiny is usually just around the corner. Like a thief, a hooker, or a lottery vendor: its three most common personifications. But what destiny does not do is home visits. You have to go for it.” He reads once again, and he lets out a little laugh. 

_But she did visit my home, like a thief, and tried to take my milk hostage._ He recounts, chucking at the memory.

Marinette’s voice echoes in his thoughts, fresh and clear, as it rang in his head.

_“Because if fate is really real, then you’re probably my soulmate, and that means you’re stuck with me forever. Because there's no way I’m going to let you get rid of me.”_

“Hey, Adrien? Adrien!” he focuses on her, whose hands were waving to get his attention. “Get your mind out of the gutter, kitty!” She hands him the console. “Are you playing or not?”

He gives her a teasing smile. “Of course I’m playing, I can't break my winning streak.” Marinette rolls her eyes.  
“If I didn’t know any better, you could’ve been planning to kick me out of the scoreboard. What was it again? 613 - 614?” he taunts, and presses play. 

“There’s no way I’m going to let you get rid of me.”

**Author's Note:**

> just happy that ppl actually read my firsl ml fic so why not do another one
> 
> the reveal story is a thing..its just sitting in the drafts


End file.
